


World in Flames

by wonderlandiscrumbling



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Addictions, Alternate Events, Angst, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Illness, Mentions of past abuse, More characters added on later, Slight horror, Temporary Character Death, Trans Male Character, Trauma, Violence, mentions of abuse, season five
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-06-27 08:16:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19786912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandiscrumbling/pseuds/wonderlandiscrumbling
Summary: Gotham city had always been chaotic in a nearly balanced sense, but the chaos that ensues after Jeremiah Valeska takes out the bridges that lead in and out of the city a new sort of apocalyptic chaos ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

A shocked silence fell over the city in the moment that the bridges collapsed, the explosions of the bombs lit up the night sky like dangerous fireworks, and for a moment everybody feared this really might be the end. Even Oswald had felt the drop in the pit of his stomach as he watched the explosions, the light reflecting and casting shadows across his face, he was frozen to the spot as he watched and realized in that moment that at least a hundred people were dead. They were burned, exploded, or falling to their deaths in the cold polluted waters below. 

Everything after that moment of hushed shock passed was a blur. Jeremiah was gone before anybody could realize it only leaving a trail of blood behind him. He himself was running, running as fast as his legs would allow him to go, he winced at the searing pain that shot through his permanently damaged leg, worked through it fearing that the manic clown may have rigged this building as well. He knew there’d been bombs throughout the city hidden like Easter eggs, he’d wanted a light show, and so far, he’d gotten what he’d wanted. Selfish fear propelled him to rush down the stairs flanked by the last three henchmen he had left that hadn’t been boughten by Falcone or hadn’t died. As they exited the building and entered the streets the floodgates of chaos and fear had erupted throughout the city. He took a moment to watch parents gathering their children up in their arms as they tried to run to safety, he saw people on their phones screaming and crying as they desperately attempted to reach out to loved ones who most likely perished on the bridges. In another minute he watched two teenagers with baseball bats smash the window of an electronics shop already taking this moment to loot, he realized if he were their age, he’d be doing the same thing in this moment.

He gathered himself the best that he could straightening his clothes as he turned to face the three looming and severely lost looking men who currently worked for him until he could find ones who were stronger and more capable. He scrambled to piece together a plan, he had no place to hide out, he would have to search for a new zone, and he was sure in the current economic climate it would be easy enough to secure territory. The next thought that struck him was Ed.

Where was Ed?

He tried to think of the last time he’d seen the man, heard from him. He remembered their failed heist at the bank, the way he’d caved and crumbled and waned in Lee’s direction. He still couldn’t shake that far off look in Ed’s eyes, the way he hadn’t seemed quite entirely all there in the head during that day. Deep down he hoped just maybe Ed escaped before all of this, while there had been a window of opportunity to evacuate but knowing Ed, he doubted that.

“I need you two to go look through the Narrows for any sign of Ed, contact me if you find him.” He ordered pointing to the two larger older men.

“And you come with me, I need to find a new temporary home until this all blows over.” He said grabbing the arm of the smaller more frightened looking man.

He kept in mind that he’d use him as a human shield push come to shove.

It was impossible to say that he’d never seen Gotham city in this state of chaos before; the Tetch virus had practically turned the place into 30 Days Later, but this was different in the sense that they were blocked off from the mainland. With the bridges officially blown out there was no easy way to escape unless one took a boat or a helicopter and the looming anxiety that dwelled inside him said that those would not be wise decisions. As he made his way through the streets with goon in tow, he couldn’t help but feel a sort of disgust at the barbaric behavior of those around him. Already within the first hour people were setting fires to cars, breaking into apartments and store fronts, grabbing armfuls of items that currently held no monetary value whatsoever. He snickered thinking about what a fun job it was going to be for the police to round up the hundreds of looters and lunatics running through the streets. 

He halted when he heard the distant wails of sirens, police sirens, but over that was the familiar blare of the sirens of Arkham. He knew once the more dangerous patients of the asylum flooded the streets then real Hell was going to break loose, not like it already hadn’t. He knew various lunatics were already out, taking advantage of this chaos. He was already planning how to restore some order.

“Mr. Cobblepot!”

He furrowed his brow as he heard his name being called, the sound edging closer. His eyes widened when he finally realized who the voice belonged to, he turned to see Penn rushing towards him looking only slightly more frazzled than he normally did. He was confused as to why the man looked relieved, even happy to see him considering Oswald still had this biting urge to stab him in the throat for screwing him over. It surprised him even more when Penn threw his arms around him nearly knocking him backwards as he hugged him tightly, awkwardly Oswald wrapped an arm around his waist patting his back.

“I was so afraid you might have died, I’m glad that you’re alright.” 

“Of course….It’s….It’s good to see you.” Oswald responded as he untangled himself from the other man, he placed a hand against his chest pushing him back just an inch to gain some semblance of personal space. “Where exactly have you been?” 

“Hiding, I returned to the Falcone estate hoping to find you there, but it was empty. Then when the bridges collapsed I worried that perhaps you’d been evacuating and….I should have known you would be alright.” He seemed almost angry with himself for assuming a worse outcome.

Oswald debated killing him still but decided against it, it almost seemed cruel if he were to be truthful. Penn was loyal to a fault, his biggest flaw was that he was a sheep, yet there was something there that caught Oswald’s attention. In an odd sense he reminded him of Ed, back when they first met; that awkward spastic pattern of behavior, the over loyalty, being so skittish, eager to please, and the college librarian taste in clothing. He snickered thinking this is what Ed would have ended up like in thirty more years if he’d never given into his darker behaviors.

His phone began ringing pulling him from his thoughts and his reunion with at least one of his slightly more useful henchmen. He was quick to answer it knowing it was news about Ed, he knew he’d be alive, probably holed up in a dumpster or a library. 

“Where is he?” 

“At Cherry’s bar down in the Narrows.”

He tightened his grip on his phone, he prayed to God that Thompkins wasn’t with him. He would happily take Ed with him, provide him with shelter and all protection he may need, but that woman would not. He’d fight Ed on that one if push came to shove.

“Bring him here, we’re right outside of Gabriel’s Pawn Shop.”

There was a long static silence that filled him with dread. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea boss, he’s kind of….”

“Kind of what?” He asked, his voice breaking as fear clutched his throat.

“I think he’s dying, he’s bleeding, and he’s not really breathing.”

Oswald closed his eyes tightly, Ed couldn’t die. Their last moments together could not consist of fighting over some ridiculous woman, he wasn’t going to leave it that his last words to him were about what a fool he was. He pressed his thumb and index finger against his eyes groaning.

“We’ll be there, find something to try and slow the bleeding until we get there.” 

“Sure, thing boss.”

He snapped his phone closed shoving it back into his pocket, Penn was watching him closely.

Oswald turned to the nameless man who was still standing behind him surveying the chaos around them. “You go find a car and bring it here. Now.” He said poking his index finger against the man’s chest.

“Is everything alright sir?” Penn asked meekly.

“No, it isn’t. I need to think….Damn it.” He felt a sense of helplessness. He knew the hospitals were packed, running on backup generators and not staffed enough to handle the injured that were already flooding their waiting rooms. Even if they weren’t overcrowded, he didn’t know how long Ed had been bleeding out for, how deep the wound was, or even where it was located or what kind. He felt a desperate need to stab somebody, but the only nearby person was Penn and truthfully, he wasn’t in the mood for that.

He began pacing back and forth as he thought over options, the shouts and sirens in the background turning to white noise as he got lost to his thoughts. He stopped when an idea struck him, he smiled turning to Penn, he clasped his hands on his shoulders shaking him. “Dr. Strange! Christ why didn’t I think of that in the first place, I know that bastard still has to be here.” He exclaimed.

He wasn’t the most trustworthy man in the city, but with enough financial influence he’d be trustworthy enough.


	2. Chapter 2

When they arrived at Cherry’s bar the place was a ghost town. He’d figured that people would hole up in the bar considering it was more than well supplied with alcohol and food. There was something eerie about walking through the worn down first floor of the building, Penn in tow as they made their way towards the back of the building to the staircase that lead up to one office, two bathrooms, and two makeshift bedrooms. He’d only been up on the second level twice before everything fell to absolute shit; the first time had been when Ed took him to the office to try to get Lee’s help with finding and taking down Sofia Falcone, the other time he’d been in what was claimed as Ed’s bedroom. That second time had been a cocktail of emotions that still lingered in his brain especially now revisiting this place.

He can’t help but glance into the empty bedroom as they pass it by; the mattress on the floor is unmade, the blankets thrown about and twisted from a restless night sleep, prescription bottles still clutter the stand by the bed, bottles of booze thrown about. He’s quick to look away, cheeks flushed as they head towards the office where he finds his two men as well as two bodies on the floor. There’s an odd sense of anger when he sees Lee laying on the floor just mere inches away from Ed, neither moving. For a second he thinks of the dolls he owned when he was little, how he’d just carelessly toss them to the floor once he was through playing with them and they would land in awkward positions. 

Oswald kneels at Ed’s side, he places two fingers against the side of his neck searching for a pulse, he thinks that he feels it but he isn’t entirely sure. He does notice that he doesn’t feel warm to the touch, his eyes are open and staring up at the ceiling. The look is that familiar vacantness he’s seen in far too many people, some of them people he’s loved. He places his hand against Ed’s chest, presses hard wanting a reaction, needing to feel the beating of a heart.

Hugo Strange would be there soon, he said he would be, and if he wanted to live to see tomorrow then he would come. Oswald curled his fingers in Ed’s blood-stained white dress shirt, he felt the urge to scream at him despite knowing Ed wouldn’t hear him. He wanted to ask him if it was worth it, if everything he’d put himself through, if dying on this filthy floor in this rundown bar really worth it. He took a deep steadying breath loosening his grip on his shirt, he began smoothing it out doing his best to ignore the gross stickiness of blood staining his fingers. He placed his hand against Ed’s cheek his thumb stroking against his skin.

“Ed, I’m going to get you fixed up. Okay?” He spoke softly to him as he began pushing his hair away from his face. 

“Mr. Cobblepot, Dr. Strange is here.”

He begrudgingly pulled himself away from Ed’s side getting to his feet turning his attention back to the local mad doctor. The man looked pristine per usual, but even through the tinted lenses of his sunglasses Oswald could tell that he was the slightest bit frazzled by this chaos, he smirked realizing this was the second time he’d tried and failed to escape Gotham in the throes of Hell.

“I need you to take these two and fix them up.” He said gesturing towards the two bodies on the floor.

Hugo glanced towards them, chuckled, and looked back at Oswald. “Resurrection?” He asked, bemused. He always had enjoyed a good resurrection; it showcased his best medical talents.

“Yes,” He swallowed hard, he didn’t like the word, it less than implied Ed was dead or at least would be dead long before making it to whatever lab Strange was holed up in.

Again, the doctor laughed, he smiled taking a step closer and holding out his hand to him. “Half the payment now and I’ll see what can be done, after all we don’t have long until all power runs out permanently and obtaining the right supplies will require myself a lot of work.”

Oswald roughly grabbed him by the wrist jerking him forward. Strange’s glasses fell to the floor, he stumbled nearly falling as he was pulled forward, sharp pain shooting up his wrist as blunt nails bit into his flesh. A familiar anger flashed in Penguin’s eyes as he stared him down. “You get nothing until I get the call that they’re alive, do you understand me?” 

Dr. Strange nodded his head vigorously, “Ye-yes of course Mr. Cobblepot.” He stammered out, now sounding as meek as Penn often did.

He released his wrist watching as the doctor recoiled, retrieved his glasses putting them back onto the bridge of his nose. 

“These two fine gentlemen will help you and of course ensure everything goes fine, if you try something then I’ll know.” He warned.

Oswald didn’t wait for a response, he snapped his fingers for Penn to follow him and exited the room, Strange had his orders, and he frankly couldn’t be in the room with the bodies any longer. He changed his focus to leaving the bar, finding a new place to live until things blew over. He stopped at the foot of the stairs when Penn began tapping him on the shoulder, he turned glaring at him.

“What?”

“I-I don’t want to sound negative, but…. What if he can’t…help them?” He quietly asked.

“He will, there’s no doubts about him being able to do that.” 

There always was a chance, life wasn’t always guaranteed to be returned. At this moment he was in the city he’d grown up in that was currently isolated from the rest of the world, the man he’d fallen so terribly in love with was on the floor above him seconds away from death and there was a high chance that he was gone forever. As the thought settled in, he just felt fear, that heart clenching fear he’d felt when his mother died, when his father died, and when Fish died; that fear and that denial that made him want to scream until his voice gave out. He nearly felt robbed that he didn’t get to scream this time, he had to maintain a semblance of calm. There was no time to fall apart and that made him hate that damned clown who started all this more.


	3. Chapter 3

Barbara stood before the window of her office, outside she watched beyond their recently installed barbed wire fence as people ran through the streets like coked up ants. They were pathetic, fear, and a base instinct to top destruction with more destruction. She watched as somebody ran from a car, a moment later it burst into flames, people scattered away screaming in fear. The GCPD was still doing their best to maintain peace, she didn’t understand how they thought with limited resources they could achieve that. Black Gate prison suffered a massive breakout one day after Arkham Asylum, so far none of the patients or prisoners had been detained. She could picture Jim Gordon disheveled yet stern, pulling his superhero bull shit to maintain peace and justice, she rolled her eyes thinking about it.

Arms wrapped around her waist from behind, a small smile graced her lips as she placed her hands on Tabitha’s arms lovingly stroking her skin. Her girlfriend rested her chin on her shoulder watching the ensuing chaos with her.

“I haven’t seen it this bad since the Tetch virus.” She commented.

She was surprised to hear her mention that considering how quite horribly their relationship had crumbled in that time. “This is worse, we had resources then at least.”

They were cut off this time; the last news broadcast she’d heard on the radio reported that the military and neighboring cities would be sending them supplies and medical aid. There were reports that nobody else would be evacuated from the city though unless they were in desperate need of medical assistance that could not be provided in Gotham city. 

“How long do you think we’ll be able to last here?” Tabitha inquired.

“I honestly don’t know….Maybe a month, longer if supplies are delivered. How many women are here now?” 

“There’s around thirty-five maybe forty, Selina is trying to help them, trying is the key word there.” She said laughing.

Barbara smiled; she was admittedly proud of the teen. When she was rebellious, she reminded her of herself as a teenager, when she was calm and mature, she had the most brilliant ideas and was genuinely useful.

She turned around to face the other woman, she placed a hand against her hip. “How’s your leg?”

“Better, I went through worse growing up.” She assured her smiling for a moment before going serious again.

Barbara knew she still planned on hunting Penguin and killing him for what happened. As much as she didn’t like Butch, she couldn’t hold it against her for wanting to avenge his death, she understood that more than she’d understood Tabitha being upset over Theo’s death. As much as Barbara had enjoyed Theo’s lavish attention in those days her stomach had turned when she’d learned about the abuse, he’d made Silver and Tabitha endure. 

She placed her hand against her cheek gently caressing her skin, Tabitha leaned into her touch closing her eyes. “There’s plenty of time for that.” She whispered before kissing her.

“The bastard is holed up in City Hall, I know that place inside and out.” She reasoned.

“I know, but he has twelve guards outside the gates, thirteen guards inside the gate roaming the property, and God knows how many more inside the building. I know that you…Loved Butch, but this is not the time for revenge.” 

She understood honor and revenge, never letting go of anger was the way that she’d been raised and trained since she was a small child, but Barbara would be damned before she lost her. She’d thought she’d lost her the night Penguin shot her in the leg, thought she’d lost her to her own selfishness and pathetic obsession with Ra’s Al Ghul. 

“He’s a dead man” She whispered, anger dripping from her words.

Barbara hugged her; she knew there was no way to permanently talk her down from that ledge. Tabitha hopefully would heed her advice and wait, wait until the dust settled and they could find the perfect opportunity to get him, but deep down she knew her better than that. At the end of the day she was a warrior and an assassin, she didn’t abide by rules of planning ahead or restraint, she barreled into fights and battles too cocky for her own good about the outcome. 

“For now, we need to stay focused on keeping everybody seeking asylum here safe and also count our supplies, if we get screwed over and can’t get more food or get in medication then I don’t know what we’re going to do.” 

“Send out feelers, see which camps are weakest and have what we may need.” Tabitha suggested.

“Stick to the low-level gangs until we get really desperate.” 

Tabitha pulled away from her embrace, she walked over to the desk where the radio sat, she flipped it on hoping for another news report, but only music played. “When is the supposed military assistance coming?”

“They didn’t say exactly, but they said it should be within the week.”

The dark-haired woman seated herself on the edge of the desk, she looked around the office with a look of nostalgia, the way one might look at their childhood bedroom when visiting their parents during the holidays. Her eyes finally landed on Barbara, a sweet smile gracing her lips as she held out her hand to her. She approached her slipping her hand in hers, Tabitha pulled her to stand between her legs pressed close against her. She placed her hands on her cheeks, thumbs stroking against Barbara’s skin. She kissed her deeply, slowly, the explosions and sirens outside faded to a white noise for a minute.

“I still love you.” Tabitha whispered against her lips.

The words were heavy and light all at once, she felt a guilt for her mistakes in the time they’d been together off and on through the years, but such elation at knowing she could somehow still love her. 

“I love you too baby” 

Whatever happened, she felt a certainty that they would be okay.


	4. Chapter 4

It was nearly a week of radio silence before Oswald heard anything from Hugo Strange. He’d begun to give up hope and even when the call came through that Strange had an update on Ed’s condition he still feared for the worst. The message had been lacking in detail, only telling him to come meet him at his lab a few blocks from City Hall. He couldn’t help but assume it was bad news; if it was good news then Dr. Strange would have shown up with Ed, accepted his payment, and scurried off back to his lab of horrors. He obviously wouldn’t want to set foot on Penguin’s territory for bad news, if it was in fact bad news then Oswald knew he wouldn’t let the doctor live. He made sure to slip his knife into the holder on his leg brace before gathering two of his guards and his driver.

He was tense on the ride to the lab, every bad possibility raced through his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about Ed’s blank staring eyes, he didn’t know if he could see him that way again, and then have to bury him. The realization that if Ed had passed away and couldn’t be revived that meant he’d have to bury him suddenly hit him; it was something he hadn’t wanted to think about before. Now he felt like he had to plan, had to think of where on Earth he could even bury him during this utter Hell. There was an off chance he wasn’t dead but was comatose, not that that was better; they would be permanently plunged into darkness sooner than later, keeping somebody in a comatose state alive would be impossible. He closed his eyes leaning his head back against the head rest, perhaps it wasn’t bad news. Ed could be alive, he would be fine, and they could go back to City Hall and talk things over.

There was so much he wanted to say and to express, to get out in the open. He still hurt from what happened; he’d been so certain after their conversation at the docks that things were changing for the better. Ed had saved him and he in turned saved his life, he’d driven him back to Cherry’s where Ed offered him to use his shower to clean up if he wanted. In some strange way that moment, being in that small space made him think of the way things used to be, it had felt like a window of opportunity to start anew, and he’d grabbed that chance quite firmly.

The car came to a stop bringing him out of reminiscing on the past and back into the dreary hellscape present. His driver got out coming around to his door opening it for him, his limbs felt heavy as he got out of the car and walked up the pathway leading towards the large metal double doors of the building that once housed countless inhuman experiments that Strange once treated like prized possessions but discarded once he grew bored or frustrated with them. Many had died, but quite a few were still hidden around the city. 

The building was desolate, haunted feeling on the inside; the equipment in the main room was coated in dust and littered with cobwebs. He felt for a second that perhaps the wrong address had been given, it wouldn’t surprise him. As he walked further into the building followed by backup he noticed a room to his right that was brightly lit unlike the rest of the building, he headed towards it feeling it was safe to assume he could find the mad doctor in there. Before he could enter the room Hugo came rushing out of it blocking its contents from view.

“What’s in there?”

“Just…A pet project.”

He could only imagine what god-awful monstrosity he had hidden away in there, but that wasn’t why he was there.

“Where’s Ed?”

“He well…He left.”

“Left….What do you mean he left?” He asked incredulously.

Dr. Strange began fidgeting with his fingers, a nervous smile on his face as he regarded the increasingly angered man standing before him. “Well he was under observation after he finally came around, he was asking me questions, and I of course answered them honestly.”

Oswald grabbed him roughly by the front of his lab coat jerking him forward. “Where did he go?” He growled out at him.

“I don’t know! He just left, I-I told him that you were paying me to help him and he just….He got quite angry and he left.”

He loosened his grip on him shoving him back, Dr. Strange grabbed the doorframe to keep from falling onto the ground. Oswald carded his fingers back through his hair, anger crushed his previous anxieties.

“Lee, where is Thompkins?” He asked as a realization dawned on him.

“She left, before Mr. Nygma was even awake.”

That was one small relief. He despised that he could still get jealous when it came to Ed, he’d tried time and time again to stop himself from such base feelings. He still worried they would run into each other, work things through, and then they’d be back together. 

“Perhaps now isn’t the right time, but I do think we should discuss my payment.”

Oswald retrieved his knife from his brace, he slammed Strange up against the wall, knife pressing against his throat digging into his skin. “You get nothing, you’re lucky I don’t just slit your throat right now.” 

He could feel him trembling, it would be easy to kill him. He deserved it for everything he’d done in the past, the absolute Hell he’d put him through, the life lasting damages he’d caused to his brain all because he viewed humans like lab rats. He pressed the blade just a bit harder before pulling back completely letting him drop back to the ground. Strange pressed his hand against his throat, eyes wide and panicked as he stared up at Penguin who sheathed his knife, turned and left him there on the ground.

Back outside where the sun barely shone through the darkened clouds and the smog filled sky the city was mostly quiet for just a moment. He returned to his waiting car, the driver standing there patiently waiting for his return. A part of him wanted to send out his people to search for Ed, drag him kicking and screaming to City Hall to ask him what the Hell his problem was. Mostly he just wanted to leave him be, if he wanted to continue acting like a child then he’d allow him to do so.


	5. Chapter 5

“You know what if Edward Nygma wants to try his luck getting by on his own out there then fine, I don’t give a shit what he does.” Oswald said as he slammed down the now empty shot glass.

Penn jumped at the sound; he immediately grabbed the bottle of whiskey refilling the glass with trembling hands.

“I don’t need him; I was being gracious by asking that half wit of a quote on quote doctor bring him back from the brink of death.” He said before downing what was his fifth shot of the evening since returning from his meeting with Hugo Strange.

From the moment he’d entered City Hall he’d been nearly enraged, the feeling spurred on by frustration and hurt. He didn’t know why he’d been foolish enough to expect Ed to just stay there, to wait for him; even if he was mad at him still for the bank heist or mad about being saved, he could have at least stayed to talk to him. Oswald didn’t understand how he could just leave, how Strange could have the gull to not contact him the moment that Ed decided he was just going to leave and fend for himself out in what was certainly an absolute hell zone.

“Th-that’s right sir, he owes you his life.” Penn concurred, refilling his drink.

Oswald nodded, “He does, I should find him and take it back from him since he isn’t appreciative of my kindness. I could have just left him in that bar to rot.” 

He thought about finding him, probably holed up in an alley, an abandoned apartment, or a library. Thought about plunging his knife into his chest over and over again, the very mental picture of the act made him feel like there was a vice grip squeezing his heart. He downed his shot setting the glass on the desk and pushing it away from himself, when Penn tried to refill it, he waved him off. Oswald ran a hand back through his hair, no he wouldn’t kill Ed. Some days he wished he had the courage to do so, that he could so coldly do to Ed what Ed had tried to do to him over a year ago on the docks. That coldness as if the man he knew, the man he still to this day quite desperately loved wasn’t even there, it felt like it had been a stranger before him holding that gun.

When he thought of their last moment on the docks, he remembered thinking it was the means to a new beginning. They could work things through. As much as he hadn’t wanted to fall back into that trap of loving him, of wanting him more than he’s ever desired anything in his life, he couldn’t help it. He’d fallen so quickly, that plunging fear when he’d thought Ed had died after being tortured by the Dentist and Falcone, it had felt like his world was over. Then the other day finding Ed there soaked in blood, not moving, just barely clinging to life that fear had clutched him all over again.

There was a comfort in Ed being alive, perhaps he was safe. He wondered for just how long he could last out there without weapons, without a secured hideout. He imagined after over a week of being unaware of the exact chaos that Jeremiah’s bombs caused, he would be in a state of shock trying to grasp all the sudden changes. Even Oswald still struggled to grasp what their world was now.

He turned the radio on, he ran through channels that consisted primarily of white noise with chunks of audio scattered throughout until he landed on a station that was mostly clear. A female broadcaster reported on the state of their beloved and damned city. She reported the death toll, according to what they’d heard and the bodies that had managed to wash upon the shores of neighboring cities, it was nearing one thousand. She spoke about how the military would be making a second delivery to Gotham, medical supplies, food rations, and the like. She then went on to say Wayne enterprises would be making a major airdrop in two days. Oswald perked at that news.

He’d managed to scour what he could from the air drops, but the GCPD controlled what people got, how much they received. They typically made sure people in the designated green zone, ‘Haven’ received a good portion of it which left the rest of them to fight and kill for what remained like blood thirsty animals. 

“I’m sick of starving, aren’t you?” He asked turning to face the nervous man still standing at his side.

“Ye-yes sir.”

Oswald chuckled, “You know you can just call me Oswald, right?” 

“Oh, okay Mr…I mean Oswald and you can call me by my name too. If you like.” 

He hesitated as he struggled to remember Penn’s first name, he felt that it started with an A, but he wasn’t sure. He turned away from him again, waving his hand dismissively. “Never mind, Mr. Cobblepot works fine.” 

“Yes Mr. Cobblepot.”

Oswald rolled his eyes, he grabbed the shot glass holding it up and giving it a bit of a shake, Penn refilled it. He really did miss Ed. When he’d thought Penn had turned against him to save his own ass, he’d been enraged but impressed to a degree. Survival of the fittest was key in this city and having the balls to betray the most powerful man in the city was a power move in some regard. Yet at the end of the day his move had been out of fear and a lingering loyalty to Carmine Falcone, a worry that Sofia might cause more harm than good if left to her own devices without her father’s watchful eye. Penn seemed utterly incapable of acting alone, willingly being submissive, and only flinching when Oswald would scream at him.

He smiled sadly as he thought about how Ed would react to his fits. He first would ignore them as if they weren’t happening then turned to being quiet and timid then eventually began yelling right back at him. That’s something he missed, even Sofia hadn’t been scared of him, more than willing to cut him off during his rants or talking down to him as if he were a spoiled child. Despite her betrayal and the fact, she dared to threaten to kill Martin, a boy he still to this moment considered his son, he admired that brazenness she possessed.

Men, people like Penn didn’t possess that or perhaps he did, but it was buried deep. He laughed to himself realizing there most probably was nothing there at all, the man was weak willed. Still he was somebody to listen when he talked, he clung onto every word whether it mattered or not.

Oswald got up from his seat wobbling slightly in his drunken state, he grabbed the edge of the desk for support. When he felt more balanced, he began walking again, the brace on his leg allowing him more freed movement, he felt idiotic for not caving in and getting one years ago. As a child it had been an expense, they couldn’t afford him, the state insurance hardly covered the pain killers, and definitely wouldn’t have covered for a brace. Once he hit his adult years, he’d felt like he should just struggle through with it, but with the current state of affairs it would be a death wish to just struggle through. He could move relatively well without the brace, but the deadened weight of his leg and those searing shots of pain he would get after so long of walking or running would have him down and out soon.

He made his way to the large marble staircase, he smiled pleased with himself for securing City Hall. There had been some stragglers hiding in the building, city workers hoping to hide there until this all blew over. He’d been sure to have them killed and removed from the property. He refused to hide out in a weakened fortress, this estate was massive, and had been easy to turn into a temporary makeshift home. He didn’t know for how long this would go on for, he prayed it wouldn’t be more than a few months, five at the most. 

The news stations were all over the story of Gotham City, reporting on the numerous disasters and tragedies that befell the city for so many years dating back to its very discovery. The land once belonging to Native Americans who most had been horrifically murdered by a fleet of European settlers, the upper class determined to make a home for themselves, who wasn’t slaughtered had been enslaved by the wealthy founding fathers of the city. It was nearly an urban legend told by children that the soil was tainted, that all these murders and bizarre occurrences were the result of a curse. He used to scoff at that, but these days he wondered if it were true. 

He entered his bedroom closing the door behind him, the large window on the other side of the room overlooked the property allowing him to watch his men, beyond the high fences he could see the city. He could watch as they all fought and killed to survive like vicious animals, which perhaps at the end of the day that’s all they were. 

He sat down on his bed kicking off his shoes, he unbuckled the straps on his brace slowly slipping it off his leg before moving on to undressing the rest of the way until he was left in his tank top and boxers. 

He considered how they were all damned in some capacity, perhaps this was their well-deserved punishment. Perhaps this was his punishment, Jeremiah Valeska had just been the Devil delivering it upon them.

When he thought of the clown, he couldn’t help but feel unnerved. He’d initially not thought much of him, but those cold dead blue eyes of his were haunting. He’d seemed like a watered-down version of Jerome, a man whose torturous actions still terrified him to this day. He hated to admit it, but he still woke crying on occasion remembering what Jerome had done to him in Arkham, his humiliation and his threats that were more like promises than anything. He was truly the first and only person Penguin found himself truly terrified of, a person that he’d not been able to read. Even when he’d beaten the Hell out of him, he’d still been scared, apparently the boogeyman enjoyed being beaten up. 

He laid in his bed staring up at the ceiling, he imagined for a second that none of this was really happening. He imagined that the city never ended up in its current state, that Ed had never shot him on the docks, that he’d actually had the courage to confess his love to him much sooner, that his mother and father had never been murdered. That they would have gotten to meet Ed, he could have had his family and the man he loved. He could have seen his parents together and happy instead of far apart and forever missing one another only to meet again in death.

Tears rolled down his cheeks, he secretly longed for a timeline where life gave him a more pleasant and less disastrous outcome.


	6. Chapter 6

It took followers to create a church, desperation and a need to find faith, something or somebody to believe in. That was what Jeremiah ensured he gave those desperate enough in the city of Gotham after the fall of the bridges, as days passed by, and hope began dwindling down. Before the fall he’d started to gain followers of his own, followers who looked to him, and understood his vision for the city. They understood that it needed to be destroyed and put through tests and trials, burned, and rebuilt so then only the best of the best were left to start all over.

His followers set up shrines, worshiped him like a cryptid, some type of divine ethereal being. He had to slice into the back of his own hand just to ensure he was in fact real, sometimes he felt that he wasn’t. He felt as if all this was a wonderous dream, he’d died and been reborn into something new thanks to his brother. If his brother really existed at all, perhaps he hadn’t. He laughed to himself the sound echoing off the walls of the large empty room he sat in, perhaps it had always only been him. His past, his life felt less real as days dragged on. 

He stroked his red gloved fingers over the smooth surface of the glass perfume bottle he held in his hand. He smiled as he looked at it, at the green liquid that was contained within. He glanced towards the large glassless window to see the sun setting and knew Eco would be returning to him soon, returning to affirm that she had completed yet another task efficiently. She was always efficient, smart, and beautiful. So damn loyal that it made him want to scream, even after his rebirth she stood by his side. She never batted an eye at it, didn’t question, or doubt him. It was as if not a single thing had changed about him and as much as he adored and loved her for her loyalty….She just didn’t make the cut these days. He worried she would cut and run, stop believing, there would be a task too far for her to handle and she would defy him. He couldn’t have that. Jeremiah had plans.

“I don’t like that name anymore.” He muttered to himself. “Who should I become?” He asked as if the darkened room could answer him.

He giggled when he thought he heard a response. “Jerome no, I’ve already been him I think…. Jester, heh no not that one.” A manic grin pulled at his lips as a name struck him, but before he could speak it into existence the door opened.

Eco entered the room, pistol in one hand, and metal box in the other. Her expression was serious, stoic; she was so very businesslike, never laughing at his jokes. She treated all this as if it were work, as if she were an actor in an action film who was scared to take pleasure or joy in this.

“It’s done” She said setting the box down on the long wooden table that was situated between them. 

He got up from his chair, eyes flicking from the box then up to her. She was efficient, he needed efficiency; as loyal as his followers were, his believers…. They were not efficient; a dozen had already been apprehended by the GCPD and several more shot dead by gangs. Gangs that didn’t understand that he needed their sections for himself, for his vision to grow.

“Excellent my girl….You’ve been so loyal to me over the years, why is that?” He asked as he rounded the table coming to stand before her.

She didn’t back away or flinch, she turned and stood facing him standing straight as a pin. “You gave me a chance when I needed one, I was on a bad path when you found me.” She answered, for just a millisecond the barest of a smile tugged at the right corner of her lips.

He just vaguely remembered that, it felt like another lifetime because it had been. She’d been feral he recalled, broken nose and bloodied knuckles; she fought for money, fought people regardless of size and age to the death because fighting and killing was what she knew. In another lifetime he’d wanted to give her a chance to find peace, salvation, and he remembered her calming her temper as the years had gone on.

Now she was here, a perfect soldier. He didn’t need a perfect soldier of order though. He needed a soldier of chaos, a person to be his right hand.

“You haven’t left” He pointed out.

“Why would I?”

He barked out a laugh, still she didn’t flinch. “I tried to blow the city to kingdom come!” He answered stretching his arms out to his sides. “Loyalty is loyalty, but everybody has a limit.”

“Not me” She responded.

She was being true, but he didn’t want to go on just her word alone.

He held up the bottle up in front of her face for her to see. “Do you know what this is?”

“The toxin that your brother used on you.” She answered quickly.

He smiled humming in response. “Yes, yes very good…. This toxin, this beautiful magical liquid made me who I am at this very moment. It was my brother’s final gift to me, this opened my eyes to the world, to what I’m really destined to be…..I want to share that gift with you Eco.” 

He waited for a response, but she gave none. He inched closer to her, put his face just a bare inch away from hers and studied her eyes for some glimpse of hesitation or perhaps fear. There was nothing there, she just looked at him as if she already knew her answer, he pulled back chuckling. 

“I want you to join me, I want to open your eyes, and share this with you. Do you want that?”

“Yes”

“There’s no turning back you know, once it’s done.” He warned her, she could bolt for the door and he would let her run. He’d let her run all the way to Haven if she liked.

“I know, but I’ve been with you all these years. If this is what it takes to stay by you then I’m willing to do it.”

In a locked away place in his brain he still saw her kneeling over a man in a makeshift fighting ring, knuckles busted open, blood splattered over her face neck and chest. The man below her not moving, not breathing, and the most manic grin on her face as she stared down at him as if he were an animal she was hunting and planned to devour once he drew his final breath. 

He knew what was locked away deep inside of her, what potentials were hidden.

“Very well then” He reached up stroking her cheek, she continued to look at him, a slight softness in her gaze now. “Kneel”

She got down on her knees, eyes locked on him. “Do you promise to only ever serve me?”

“Yes”

“Will you kill for me?”

“Yes”

“Would you live for me, die for me?”

“Yes”

“I free you from the binds that keep you in this life, I set you free into a world of perfect clean clarity.” He said as he pointed the nozzle at her face. He pressed down releasing a mist that hit her face and lingered in the air around them, he pressed again and again watching as she began choking and coughing. She doubled over covering her face with her hands as coughs turned to screams then screams into hyena like laughter.

He set the bottle down on the table and took a step back watching, waiting. She lowered her trembling hands from her face placing them on her thighs, she looked up at him, and she was perfect. Her skin was turning porcelain and pale like his own, her eyes drained of their previous color now a brilliant glowing blue, a grin on her face as she looked up at him. She looked at him with that mania he’d seen so many years ago in his other life. She got to her feet.

“Perfection….My perfect Harlequin doll” He whispered as he stroked his fingers along her pale cheek.

She giggled and leaned into his touch; she grasped his wrist nuzzling against the palm of his hand. 

He pulled his hand away from her, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against himself. “Now what do you say to us raising a little Hell my girl?”


	7. Chapter 7

On the first day of surviving on his own Ed had found himself off to a bad start. He was still wearing the dress shirt and dress pants from the night he had died. His shirt was ripped open, soaked through with blood to the point that it was more so pink and crimson than white, his black pants were littered with marks of dirt. Hugo Strange had not changed him into new clothes nor offered him new ones. Instead he had awoken in a small white room immediately reminding him of the special punishment rooms he’d spent time in back at Arkham among other establishments who didn’t know how to properly care for the mentally ill. He of course had begun to panic, screaming until his throat began to itch and burn, his voice nearly gone. He’d banged on the metal door on the other side of the room until his knuckles were busted and bleeding, it had been two hours before Strange had come in to respond to his panicking, his response of course had been to grab him by the throat, shove him to the floor and drug him.

His memories were a bit messy after that moment onward. He knew they would come back to him over time, as the drugs left his system, and he was given time and space to think and remember. Admittedly a part of him feared remembering, he knew whatever Strange had done to him and for whatever reason it hadn’t been pleasant.

By the time night fell he’d walked halfway through the city, ducking and hiding in alleyways to avoid biker gangs and followers of Jeremiah who roamed the streets in droves. There were more normal people out and about, but they too seemed to duck and hide when the gangs came through the streets. He felt like he was living inside one of the zombie movies he loved so much, well used to love, he wasn’t sure he wanted to watch apocalyptic films anymore after this. Through his wandering he’d finally come upon the library, he’d sighed in relief as he dragged himself up the concrete steps leading to the building, he nearly collapsed as he pushed open the double doors and entered the darkened building. His legs burned with the strain of carrying himself for so many miles, his hands were shaky, and his stomach hurt. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten; he knew it was before he died, and he was sure that Strange had tube fed him during his time in that Hell hole. 

Ed closed the doors behind him, he turned the lock and pushed against the sturdy solid wood doors hoping that nobody would bother him. He doubted the clowns, or the bikers would have very much interest in raiding the library. As he wandered through, he took notice that it was untouched; not a single book was out of place, dust and spider webs coated and decorated most of the surfaces. It had to be the only place in the city that had gone untouched by humans, only worn down by time and neglect. It would be a perfect place to hide. It had been ages since he’d been inside the building, finding less and less use for it as time had gone on; finding it nearly impossible to look at it after Isabella had been murdered, and well after that he’d just been too busy with other matters. 

He dragged himself over to a brown leather couch situated in a room where people at one time could just relax and read, he flopped back onto the couch sighing. He closed his eyes and smiled remembering coming to this place when he was done with his duties, he’d read while Isabella worked, and when she’d have the time she’d come and sit with him. He could feel the ghost of her fingers petting through his hair, many moments of his head rested on her lap, and that lovely way she would look at him. Those sweet memories of a time ripped from him lulled him to sleep.

He awoke the following evening with a sore neck and sore legs, he’d forgotten just how uncomfortable couches could be to sleep on. He slowly lowered his feet onto the tiled floor as he rubbed at the back of his neck wanting to work out some of the tension there. He looked around the room realizing that the world, their world still was ended. He didn’t know for how long though; he didn’t know how long he’d been dead, how long he’d been revived for either. Time didn’t exist when one was dead and when one was locked in a white room in a secret lab owned by a mad doctor then one kept even less track of the time. 

From the way everything looked it seemed like months had passed but knowing Gotham city he was certain it had only been one or two months at the most. The city never failed him, when he thought it couldn’t get worse and the people couldn’t be more moronic and violent, they always managed to exceed his expectations. He’d been so damn close to leaving this place behind, just going, and living his life. Anger flared in him as he got up from the couch and remembered the moments before his death.

He’d had two options that day; try to coax Lee to leave the city with him or go try to convince Oswald to leave the city with him. He’d thought Lee would leave, she hadn’t been born in Gotham so she had no real blood attachments to the place, he knew she’d wanted to and had left times in the past, and hoped that the threat of mass bombings would be enough to get her running. His hand travelled to where she’d rammed the knife into his stomach, he looked down at the skin that was thick and discolored; the blade had twisted and torn leaving the angry scar that without proper care hadn’t healed correctly. 

“I could have sewn it up better.” He muttered to himself as he made his way into the small bathroom in the back of the building.

The library at one time had doubled as an apartment of sorts. Upstairs was a bedroom and a small kitchenette, downstairs there was a fully utilized bathroom. He knew he could use the place as a home for himself at least until he pieced together what was going on and his survival chances. 

Against better judgement he looked at himself in the mirror that hung above the sink, he glanced over to see another mirror hung above the toilet and thought better than to question that right now. He looked back to the mirror before him and noticed how bad he looked; his eyes looked tired, darker than usual, his hair was grown down just past his ears, bruises ringed his neck like a necklace. He lightly touched his fingertips to the marks and thought how they resembled the bruises Butch had left on his throat several years ago, the memory made him swallow hard. He should have just gone for it, one of them should have anyway.

He turned away from the mirror before anything out of the ordinary could happen. He went to the bathtub and was relieved to find there was indeed still running water. He hoped just maybe he was only a few days or weeks into the end of their world. As the tub filled with water he peeled out of his clothes tossing them into the corner, he was rather certain that there were still men’s clothes upstairs in the bedroom, and if he were lucky they’d fit for the most part, he wasn’t entirely finicky about that. When he was naked, he took note of the rings of bruises around his wrists and his ankles, apparently, he’d needed strapped down for whatever Strange had planned for him. He fought to remember what had happened after that initial day, but he just felt things. He felt anxiety and fear, he felt anger, and wanting to die. To be truthful he still longed for death, he had for so long, and finally even if it hadn’t been the way he’d wanted to achieve it he’d achieved it at least. 

Tears ran down his cheeks as he gathered shampoo, conditioner, and body wash from the cabinet beneath the sink. He returned to the tub climbing inside, the items sat on the floor next to it within reach. He sighed as he relaxed in the waters embrace, he dunked his head under the water holding his breath until his lungs started to ache then he resurfaced once more gasping for breath. He carried on with washing his tangled mess of hair, debating on if he should cut it or not, Hell just cut all of it off. He felt a frustration with his current situation, a lack of control.

He didn’t know the date, didn’t know the time or the day of the week. He didn’t know if Oswald had survived or if Lee was alive. She hadn’t been very alive the last he’d seen her, he felt sick thinking that what happened had been her plan all along. He dug his nails into the palm of his hand until they broke the skin, he watched the blood run down dripping into the water below. He’d really loved her; thought he’d loved her. She’d given him a purpose for a time; kept him busy to keep him from focusing on the bad things, she’d treated him like a person. He’d loved her, felt he did, and then when he went to see Oswald at Arkham that first time it became complicated. 

He dunked his injured hand into the water hissing as the cuts stung. 

He leaned his head back against the rim of the tub and closed his eyes, for as much as Lee had given him, Oswald had saved his life. He’d given up the chance to kill the woman who robbed him of all he earned and threatened the life of a boy he thought of as a son, all to save Ed. He had had to fight back the urge to tell him that day it was the wrong choice, but he’d seemed so certain it was the right one. It had only seemed right to go back to Cherry’s together, Oswald was in need of a shower and a change of clothes, and Ed needed pain killers for that horrid searing pain in his mouth. 

While Oswald had showered, he’d taken pills that were chased down with several shots of whiskey. Afterwards Oswald had sat on his bed with him wearing dress shirt and slacks that were too big for him, he’d been careful and gentle washing the blood from his face and neck. Words were spoken, apologies for past mistakes and words that they both regretted as time had marched on. Ed hadn’t listened entirely, he’d just felt shivers when Oswald touched along his throat, he’d been so gentle it rattled him in a way. In that moment it felt like the way things used to be, he’d felt desperate to get that time back, and that had been the perfect opportunity. 

Ed submerged under the water again, he didn’t regret what happened between them that evening. He regretted getting scared, not getting into contact with him again until the bank heist. He regretted screwing him over, he regretted not trying to find him to try and get him to leave the city with him when there had still been a chance. He knew it would have been a fruitless argument to try and get Oswald to leave with him, but he should have tried anyways. 

He finished washing up then got out of the tub. He still had no food and no clue what exactly was going on; he didn’t know if the police were even still a thing, if the military was trying to get a handle on the situation, or if they were on their own. He laughed as he exited the bathroom realizing that if they were all on their own without laws then they were purely in a Lord of the Flies scenario; over grown children tagging property as their own, fighting to the death over food, and titles of power that held no meaning.

It did make him wonder who all was still alive.

Something in his gut told him that Oswald was alive, the man was equipped to survive anything and everything, like a cat with nine lives he always seemed to come back. Ed felt perhaps it would be best to go looking for him first, if anybody would be easy to find then it would be Oswald.

First though he needed clothes.

The bedroom on the second floor of the library was even more untouched than the rest of the building, it hadn’t been used for quite some time. There had been an owner a few years back who lived in the building, his father had owned it before him and left it all to him after passing away. Once he died though there had been nobody to leave the building to, so it was up for grabs like most things in Gotham were. Lucky for him he’d been right about clothes still being in the closet and the dresser, he found black dress pants that were just a few inches too short and a dress shirt that was two sizes too big, but it would do for now. 

After he was dressed, he began planning out in his mind where to start looking. He’d check the Falcone estate, the VanDahl estate, even some of the apartments on the south side just in case. He hoped along the way he’d be able to obtain a weapon; he knew the later it got in the day then the more likely he would be to run into gangs or just idiot thugs looking for a fight. A part of him worried he wouldn’t be able to find him, that he had either escaped the city or didn’t make it at all. Something told him though he’d be able to find him, that he’d be alright. If he wasn’t then Ed wasn’t entirely sure where to go from there.


	8. Chapter 8

Oswald awoke to a heavy weight on his chest, an elbow pressing into his ribs, and the push of hot rancid smelling breath against his face. He opened his eyes the slightest bit to be greeted by a pair of dark brown eyes staring back at him. He smiled as he looked at the brown and white spotted bulldog that was laying on top of him, the dog’s mouth hanging open and tongue lolling out of the corner. He lifted a hand to lazily pet the dog’s head, it leaned into his touch momentarily closing its eyes.

“Good morning Edward” He greeted the dog, his voice rough and tired sounding.

It wasn’t lost on him how insane it was that he named his dog Edward. It wasn’t his fault that after having him brought back from the dead Ed repaid him by screwing off to God knows where and ignoring him completely, he could at least thank him for the trouble he’d gone through. The bulldog on the other hand, that Oswald had found in an abandoned home was very grateful and loyal. 

“At least I can trust that you won’t just run off on me.” He said to the dog who only panted in reply.

There was a strong chance he was losing his mind. Initially their rations had been good; they’d been stocked on medical supplies, food, and he’d had plenty of his testosterone medication, but now it was all running low. There had been less shipments coming in from the mainland, less hand outs from other states and from the American government. It felt as if the rest of the world was attempting to forget Gotham city ever existed, leave it to starve and wilt away to nothingness. One day once they were all dead and gone people would come to the city, walk the desolate streets, and wonder what happened. 

Oswald carefully moved the dog from his chest laying him down on the bed, he slowly got out of bed himself. 

Each day that passed them by the more into a pit of chaos the city fell; Firefly and Mr. Freeze during a fight over territory had managed to blow up an entire block before coating it in ice, Poison Ivy had taken up residence in the park rapidly growing the plants until the vines and weeds spread outward like veins wrapping around buildings and lamp posts. There were rumors that any humans who dare go near the plants, dare enter the jungle created by the lady of the flowers they would be consumed by the Earth, by her. 

Of course, the worst of it all was Jeremiah and his cult following. He was turning out to be exactly like this brother, but worse. Worse in the way that he worked quietly most of the time, there were his loud followers with their painted faces and punk styled clothing who ran through the streets raising chaos, he’d had issues with them on several occasions where they hit up his own pieces of territory stealing supplies and weapons from him. Jeremiah himself nobody had seen, at least they couldn’t confirm seeing him anyways. Oswald knew he was still in the city, he was alive, and planning something. He didn’t know what and that terrified him. Jerome had thrived on chaos because it was fun, Jeremiah was….He was methodical, he planned ahead. Normally Oswald would admire that in a person, but he couldn’t bring himself to admire anything about the Valeska twins. He tended to steer clear of any activity relating to the clown themed gang, if he had the man power and the weapons for it then he’d just blast them all to Hell where they belonged.

Once he was dressed, he returned to the bed where Edward still lay watching him. He picked the dog up the best he could grunting as he remembered just how heavy the new addition to his home was, he readjusted cradling the dog against him as he carried him to the bedroom door then set him down on the ground, when he exited the room Penn was already standing outside waiting for him as he usually was. The man either never rested or woke up early to be at his beck and call first thing in the morning, somedays it irritated him, today being one of those days. He shoved past him on his way to the staircase, Penn and Edward following him closely behind, the dog soon was walking at his side.

“Sir, Jim Gordon is still wondering about merging our camps. He’s offering shelter, food, and medicine….I know you aren’t entirely keen on the idea, but it could be helpful.” Penn said as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

Oswald turned on his heel to face him glaring at the other man who shrank away taking a step back from him.

“We are not crawling to Jim Gordon for help, we’re fine….We just…There’s a biker gang nearby, we’ll hit them. I’ve heard they have stashes of ammunition, enough food to get us through another week or so. I’ll pry canned food from Freeze’s dead hands before I go groveling to Gordon.” He spits angrily at the other man.

Gordon had happened to see the condition of Oswald’s camp. City Hall was immaculate, but Oswald, Penn and the other survivors at their camp weren’t doing as well as other were. Not to say that anybody was doing insanely well, but some worse off than others. Haven happened to have many families, small children and infants who came before anything else in the city. Oswald’s camp was small, consisting mainly of thugs, himself, and a few people he’d known before it all went to Hell. He knew realistically his camp was low priority, but that didn’t make him any less angered by the state they were in. He knew if they went to Haven that they’d have to hand over their weapons, Gordon would pretend there could be a truce, but he would watch him like a hawk waiting for him to make one wrong move. He refused to go for it. Besides it still hurt like Hell that Gordon thought he could kill a child, it had taken nothing for him to believe that lie.

“I-I’m sorry sir, I just thought….You’ve seemed….Tired lately is all, I thought perhaps…” He trailed off averting his eyes.

Oswald relaxed slightly, a mild hint of guilt hitting him. Penn meant well even if he bugged him half the time, he reminded himself the other man was just worried about him was all. “I’m fine, I just have a lot to think about these days.” He assured him.

They were stuck on a Hellish island with no sign of leaving, he heard rumors that if construction started on the bridges that it would take a year, maybe longer. He heard that the government was looking into the crime rates of Gotham, noticing just how drastically high it was and continued to be. He worried they were here forever without a sign of help, that they’d all either kill each other or starve to death. These thoughts haunted his mind day in and day out, he felt like he had no control over circumstances these days. He had his gang, he had Penn, and now he had Edward, but he didn’t have much outside of that. Rival gangs were on the daily robbing him blind, killing what thugs he did have out in the streets. 

“Gather a few of my men, if we’re going to get supplies, we should get an early start. Should we not?”

The gang was relatively small; it consisted of eight people. Each of them clad in leather jackets, wearing combat boots, and carrying rifles. They were holed up at a car garage, four of the eight were outside, two of them stood near the closed garage door drinking and smoking as if they didn’t care to pay attention go guard duty while the other two were walking the premises looking out for intruders or people to mug. 

From a safe distance one of Oswald’s men took out the two who were pacing, one fell into a crumpled heap on the ground followed by the other. When the second body hit the ground that was when the two oblivious morons smoking became alert, they dropped their cigarettes and beer bottles to the ground, picked their rifles up from the ground and began frantically scanning the lot for where the shots had come from. In no time they fell dead. 

He remembered people trying harder before everything went to complete shit.

Oswald lead his men into the building choosing to enter through the front door of the building, it was considerably a stupid suicidal move, but he could use the risk. Inside they found the other gang members, gathered around a poker table looking completely shocked, panicked, then angry to be intruded upon. They grabbed their pistols from their holsters jumping to their feet, Oswald pulled his own gun shooting first the man to his right then the man to his left in the head, leaving only the two in the middle. He took a step forward looking at the man with a buzzcut and nose ring. 

“Gerry?” He asked.

The other man blinked at him, realization dawning on his face. He held his arms out at his sides, a nervous smile on his face. “Ozzie it’s been ages, you’ve changed a lot.” 

The two hadn’t seen each other since high school. Back when Oswald still had blond hair, when he would wear baggy t-shirts and a cheap chest binder under olive green tank tops. Once upon a time they ran in a small gang together, holding meetings at Gerry’s cousin’s parent’s apartment before going to hit up the local gas stations and liquor stores. It all came to an end after their last robbery had gone wrong, the man behind the counter at the Marathon station had pulled a gun on them, Oswald had panicked and shot him in the chest killing him instantly.

“Well it has been quite some time….I see that…You haven’t changed much.” He said as he looked around the room they stood in.

Many high school memories were coming back to him, the building looked like a teenage wasteland, not a hideout for an organized gang. 

Gerry laughed as he scratched at the back of his neck. “Not all of us can take out half the mafia in a year.” There was a long pause before he continued again. “Look you can take what you want, I won’t come after you guys.” Gerry said, a weak empty promise.

Maybe he wouldn’t come after them, but Oswald didn’t want to risk that. He trained the gun at him, before his old friend had the chance to open his mouth again, he pulled the trigger, the other man fell back collapsing onto the table sending it crashing to the ground. Oswald holstered his gun and turned back to his henchmen.

“Gather as many supplies as you can, take their weapons and ammunition as well.” He said as he pushed past them making his way back outside.

He didn’t think he’d start his day by killing one of his old classmates, but he supposed that was the way things went these days.


End file.
